But Bro
by vocalspaz88
Summary: Raising a little cool kid had some struggles involved. Like having to explain the necessity of the shades and having to teach the little man to conceal his feelings, but it could also be very rewarding. The Strider bothers were best friends, but eventually, the little man has grow up, and the big man, Broderick Strider might be left in the dust.
1. Chapter 1

"But Bro, I don't want to go," Whispered the tiny blonde child. He clutched at the fabric of his brother's pants.

Broderick Strider, or Bro, chuckled, looking down at his kid. Dave was only five years old, and it was supposed to be his first day at kindergarten. "Why not?"

"I don't trust them."

"Why not?"

Dave pressed his face into the back of Bro's knee. The man sighed, but his chest tightened up with affection for the little guy. Dave held on tighter. "They're all looking at me," Dave whined.

Bro scanned the group of kids all hanging out in front of the school. They were playing on swings, chasing each other, and shouting at their brand new friends. Nothing indicated that anyone was looking at Dave at all. "How do you know that?"

"I can see all of their eyes, Bro."

Staring straight ahead, Bro reached up to adjust the brim of his hat. He had always taught Dave not to give anything away, not to let anyone see what he was feeling, but that didn't mean he should fear those who lived a little differently. "The eyes are the window to the soul, kid," Bro murmured. "Some people want to show the world their souls, but some people, people like you and me, shine a little too bright. Gotta keep them shades on until you really get to know someone."

With a small frown, Dave just cuddled against his leg even more, and he sighed. "Trust me, lil man, it'll be okay."

Still, no matter what he said, Dave would not let go of his leg. Bro had to peel him off to get him to even step into the front gates. The bubbly looking woman Bro assumed was the teacher ushered Dave inside, encouraging him fruitlessly to go play with the other kids. Bro lingered, but the woman shooed him away, assuring him everything would be fine. The last thing he saw was Dave climbing up into a tree, and staying there.

Back at the apartment Bro sat on the couch and got out his laptop to get a little work done. Smuppets wouldn't sell themselves, but he didn't even get an hour of work in before he was getting a call from the school. "Strider residence," He said, tapping away at his keyboard. "Bro speaking."

"Is this Mr. Broderick Strider?" Huffed a feminine voice. He recognized it as the teacher from the kindergarten. "Dave Strider's father?"

"Guardian," He corrected, tensing up. Dave was much better off with him as a brother, not a father. "My name is Bro."

"Well, Mr. Strider, Dave is being very disobedient. He refuses to take off his sunglasses and we are indoors."

"He never takes them off," Bro said shortly.

"Well, he needs to."

"No, he actually doesn't."

"Does he have a doctor's note?"

Bro faltered. "No."

"Then you'd better come talk to him and work something out."

The line went dead and Bro ground his teeth together, pocketing his phone, grabbing his keys, and speeding to the school. It happened to art time when he got there, and among the little sticky faced brats drawing ugly unicorns, their families, and kittens, Dave was on the far end of the room with his teacher kneeling beside him. On Dave's easel was, in Bro's eyes, an expertly drawn smuppet. Keeping his face void of the pride he felt, Bro approached the teacher, hearing little whispers from the kids as he did.

"He's big."

"Is that her boyfriend?"

"Maybe he's gonna yell at us. He looks scary."

"He's got silly glasses, too. But I like his gloves."

Ignoring all of the comments, he crossed the room and leaned by the wall, waiting for the teacher to notice he was there. Her students sure as hell had.

"Can you tell me what's wrong with what you have drawn?" She was saying.

Dave's face was artfully blank. "Nope."

"Think," She said patiently, pointing to the red plush rump. Dave even drew the rump. Bro had to fight back a laugh. "Do you think this is appropriate? What even is it, honey?"

"It's not honey, that's for sure." Dave said snarkily.

"It's a smuppet," Bro said, making everyone turn and look at him. "We have them all over the house. I make and sell them for a living; I'm completely unsurprised Dave would draw one."

"Well that doesn't explain what it is and why it needs to be drawn so inappropriately."

"It's a sex toy," Bro said, voice a challenge. "Do you have a problem with that?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Bro saw Dave snicker. He merely pointed at the boy, and the expression on his face went smooth again. Good boy.

"Would you step outside with me please, Mr. Strider?" She asked, voice like spoiled sweets.

"His name is Bro!" Dave piped up.

"Shush, lil man," Bro said, then looked down at the teacher. "He's right though."

"I am not calling you Bro," She said stiffly, turning on her heel and marching out.

Sighing, Bro followed. "What do you want?"

"Is that how your raise your child?" She demanded, pointing a sharp red fingernail towards the open classroom door. "With sex toys and unnecessary eyewear?"

"What business is it of yours how I raise my kid?" He countered. "Has Dave stepped one toe out of line? And I'm not talking drawing a damn puppet or wearing his shades. Has he actually misbehaved? Once?"

The teacher faltered, turning red and looking flustered. Then, her eyes got wide, far too big for her face. "He refused to follow instructions, as a matter of fact" She sniffed.

"What, when you asked him to remove his shades?"

She opened her mouth and closed it again, repeating the motion like a fish with lipstick. Expressionless as always Bro shoved past her and went inside, scooping Dave up with one hand and throwing him over his shoulder. "Time to go," He said casually. Dave didn't even put up a fuss. He was so used to being carried around that way he just pushed up his shades, holding them to his face. Dave was probably the most obedient, dignified, and intelligent kid in the whole state of Texas.

As they walked away, Bro wasn't surprised that the woman didn't say anything. He heard the angry click of stomping heels and the slam of a door, but that was all. "Bye bye," Dave said, waving his little hand. "Where are we going, Bro?"

"Home," The man answered.

"What about school, Bro?"

He thought about this for a long time. What about school? The past ten minutes had shown Bro that he couldn't trust public schools to accept the Strider lifestyle, and private school had to be that much worse. "I guess I'll have to teach you myself, huh kid?"

"You're not a teacher, Bro," He protested.

"Hush, you trust me dontcha?"

"Yes I do."

"Good. I'll take care of everything, don't you worry you're pretty little head."

"But Bro-"

"But nothing. I'm gonna school you myself. Just you and me."

Dave didn't argue again, and Bro spent the rest of that day ordering home school books. He'd be damned if he was going to let some stranger spend more time with his little man than he did. Home schooling actually turned out to be much easier than Bro would have previously thought. Dave was a bright kid, he wasn't very argumentative, and he followed simple instructions. On top of his normal curriculum, Bro signed Dave up for afternoon martial arts. That way, though he spent most of his time at home, he'd still have some form of socialization. Dave wasn't one to approach other kids, he wasn't shy, he just wasn't interested, but he gave off an aura that drew people close to him and soon enough, he had many friends and acquaintances, but no matter how many times Bro asked one certain question, he always got the same answer.

"Jackson was the one who broke it first," He said one afternoon, talking about breaking boards. "He hit it with his head."

"Do you like Jackson, a lot?"

"I guess so," Dave murmured.

"Is he your best friend?"

"No."

Bro smirked, but asked anyway. "Who's your best friend, Dave?"

"You are."

"Good boy."

Bro liked that Dave loved him so much, but sometimes he worried. As Dave grew older, he still wasn't changing his answer. Most pre-teens didn't think of their guardians as their best friends, and if they did, it was usually the result of bullying or depression. Dave wasn't bullied, and he certainly wasn't depressed. The kid seemed perfectly content just hanging around the house with Bro. The man didn't mind that, not at all, but still he worried. "It's a nice day, Dave," Bro said one afternoon.

The kid, almost eleven to be exact, was lying across the couch on his belly watching hilariously awful cartoons. "You think?"

Bro yanked open the blinds, and the harsh Texas sunlight poured in. "You tell me."

"Close it," Dave hissed, throwing an arm over his face. "My eyes, my eyes…"

"You're eyes are fine," Bro chuckled. "You're wearing shades. You always wear shades."

"Irrelevant."

"Don't give me that sass, kid. You wanna go?"

Dave looked up, interested. "Maybe."

"Oh, you know I'll kick your little ass," He challenged. He knew how to get his little punk of off the couch.

"That's what you think!" Dave shouted, leaping off of the couch and running to the roof. On the way, he darted to the kitchen, grabbed himself a sword, and disappeared up the stairs to the roof. Bro casually strolled into the kitchen himself, taking his sweet time as he pawed through the weapons in the fridge. They had some major organization issues in that house. He picked up a katana, seeing his reflection. His pointy shades gleamed. He chuckled, snatched up his puppet Cal, and flash stepped to the roof to knock Dave around a little bit.

Of course when the play fight was over Dave was battered and bruised, but Bro didn't have a scratch. Dave would get nowhere in life if he was allowed to win all the time. "Go wash up kid," Bro instructed, shoving the swords, and Cal, back into the fridge. When you come back we'll do some school.

Dave groaned, dragging his officially kicked butt to the bathroom to shower. Bro smiled.

While Dave got cleaned up, Bro pulled out his laptop and logged on to his little porn site. He had a few more smuppet orders to fill and some submissions to edit. Sure it wasn't exactly a clean cut white color job, but it wasn't the only one he had, and it brought in a lot of extra income. He worked four nights a week DJ-ing and bartending, but the site gave him and Dave that extra cash they needed for things like skateboard shoes, pizza night, and emergencies. Dave even knew about the site. He wasn't allowed on it, not yet, he was only ten, but the kid knew what sex was and saw smuppets all over the place, so Bro didn't see a reason to keep the secret. He didn't want Dave to think sex was a thing you had to be ashamed of, he wanted the kid t be open with it, at least at home.

"Bro, the wifi is being stupid."

He looked up, seeing Dave with wet hair and his iphone."Who you talking to, squirt?"

"John."

"Who's John?"

Dave shrugged. "My best friend."

Bro was speechless. He sat there blank faced as his ten year old kid wondered out of the room with outstretched arms, searching for signal.


	2. Chapter 2

The notion had been nagging at Bro for the better part of a year, but it still seemed to hit him all at once when Dave asked if he could start going to public school. Dave was growing up, and fast. He wasn't gonna be a little twink forever; the kid wanted his own life. It was summer, he was turning twelve that winter, and he wanted to go to a public middle school. "We've tried public school before, lil' man, you didn't like it. Remember?"

"Hardly," The pre teen scoffed. "I was like what, five?"

Bro knew it was stupid, but he took Dave's request a little personally."What makes you want to try again? Don't you like it here?"

"Yeah, I like it here," He said, shrugging. "But it's just us, you know? We don't have sports, clubs, dances, or anything like that. I don't know."

Bro was quiet for a while, but he nodded. "Alright, kid," He said. "You can start in the fall."

"I'm gonna go tell John!" Dave said enthusiastically, turning on his heel and scurrying down the hall. He disappeared behind his bedroom door and Bro could almost hear him booting up his computer. Dave was always on the computer. If he wasn't schooling or doing his martial arts, he was always on the damn computer. Bro wasn't really worried, but he felt a little jealous. He knew Dave was talking to that John, some kid his age that lived half way across the country. Bro wasn't sure how he could be best friends with someone he never even met. Even if John was the most amazing twelve year old on the face of the earth, Bro was still baffled by the amount of time Dave spent cooped up in his bedroom.

That evening Bro ordered a large meat lovers pizza, wings, and some soda and when it arrived he rapped lightly on Dave's closed door. "Hey kid, soups on," He called, hearing almost frantic typing and the shuffling of Dave moving around the room. There was some hushed muttering, but no answer. "Dave?"

"I'll be out in a minute," Dave huffed, voice muffled by the door. "Start without me."

"You don't want to pick out the best slice?" Dave always wanted to claim the best slice.

"You take it this time."

"Whatever you say, lil man."

Bro put his hands in his pockets and walked back down the hall, frowning thoughtfully. "Something's wrong," he murmured to himself. "Either very different, or very wrong."

Despite his unease, Bro flicked open the box of wings and plucked a few out, dripping them on his plate. He ate them slowly, dipping each in ranch until they dripped. He left the pizza alone. He couldn't make himself take the first slice, it didn't feel right. Eventually Dave turned up, face slightly flushed in sweats and a rumpled tee shirt. "Hey Bro," He said, opening up the pizza box. He examined the pie carefully, and then reached for the slice that was not only biggest, but was covered tip to crust in meat. He could hardly see the cheese.

Seeing Dave's face when he hungrily devoured it made him smile. That kid had the appetite of any grown man, and as they settled into a comfortable silence to eat, Bro's worries lessened a little bit. When they were finished, they could hear the soft pitter patter of rain on the roof and Dave made a face, shooting Bro a look of dread. "We're not gonna brawl in that, are we?"

On a relatively daily basis Dave and Bro had recreational fights on the roof in place of gym class, sometimes they even fought through the rain, but after a moments consideration Bro just patted his stomach, shrugging. "Nah, I'm too damn stuffed," He admitted, smiling at the sound of Dave laughing. "We'll just take a lazy day, how's that sound lil man?"

"Sounds awesome," Dave said.

Before he could say something back, Dave was getting up from the table and going back into his bedroom, closing the door behind him. Bro frowned, sitting at the table for a bit. He had wanted to pop in a movie or play some games, but Dave clearly had other plans. He was starting to miss the days Dave clung to his leg.

Sighing, Bro cleaned up the dinner mess and made his way to his own room, sewing up a few smuppets to kill time until finally it was late enough for bed to be a suitable activity. He stripped down to his boxers, listening to the now heavy rain pound. A large crack of thunder had him looking over his shoulder at his open door. The hall was dark, silent, and nothing was moving but the ticking hands of the clock. Dave hated thunderstorms. He tore his gaze from the kid's door, shaking his head. Dave was growing up, he wasn't going to jump at a little thunder, right? Just in case, though, Bro left his door open as he crawled in bed, putting his shades on the table to his left. He stretched out on his stomach and closed his eyes, drifting off easily with his full stomach and the sound of the storm outside. It wasn't long though before a soft creak had him stirring.

He didn't open his eyes, but he listened carefully to the soft padding of feet, trying not to be heard. He held back a smile as the tiny sound got closer and finally, he felt the weight of another person crawling into the bed beside him. A cold finger gently prodded him on the arm. "Bro?"

Cracking an eye open, he glanced up at Dave, and without a word he lifted the covers.

Dave climbed in eagerly, curling up very close. Bro turned onto his side and took Dave into his arms. Dave was cold, as if he hadn't even gotten into bed before coming in. He felt the kid shiver against his chest, then cuddle close, obviously eager to share the warmth. Bro softly pet Dave's hair until he was asleep, listing to the thunder that clearly had his brother spooked.

He of course hated to see Dave scared, but at the same time he loved it when the kid crawled in bed with him. Bro got a little lonely sometimes all by himself in such a big bed. He wasn't afraid to be alone, he grew up alone, but he didn't like it. Having a cute little kid so near was comforting. He chuckled as Dave muttered and moved around in his sleep. He could have closed his eyes and joined Dave, but he liked watching him dream, and dream he did.

What Bro noticed though, was that Dave was behaving sort of unusually. Whenever he watched Dave sleep as a kid he would murmur inaudibly, rub his eyes and yawn cutely when he was dreaming, but as he watched now he saw Dave toss and turn, grunting things Bro just barely misunderstood. What finally made Bro realize what was going on was when Dave pressed a bit closer, and he _felt it._ Dave was clearly hot and bothered by something, or someone, in his dream and his body was responding accordingly. Bro didn't move, completely at loss for what to do in such a situation. Eventually he gathered his wits and gently peeled Dave off of his chest, replacing himself with a firm pillow before getting up and heading to the kitchen for a quick drink. He'd play dumb, he decided as he poured himself a glass of orange crush. No sense embarrassing the poor kid, right? He gulped down his soda and shoved a few dozen swords out his the sink so he could rinse out the glass and go back to bed. When he stepped in the room though, Dave had either forgotten where he was or was acting in his sleep, because Bro could clearly see Dave's hand moving beneath the waist band of his underwear.

The first thing that came into Bro's head was the word "Shota." Little, blonde, cute, and sexually immature, Dave wasn't even touching himself correctly. An image of the correct way popped into his head soon after, but he shook that thought from his mind at once, shocked it had gotten lodged there in the first place. "Fuckin creep," He muttered at himself. He glanced at the clock. It was about one in the morning, way too early to actually start functioning and way too early to wake anyone up without a damn good reason. Bro wanted to get back to sleep, but there was an eleven year old jacking off in his bed and he couldn't make himself get back in there, knowing that was going on. It gave him thoughts he knew he shouldn't have about his little man.

Finally he reasoned that his smartest option was to sleep on the couch. His sleep was restless, he kept thinking about Dave, the little shota snuggled up in his bed. When he opened his eyes his face felt flushed and he shook his head, muttering to himself about pedophilia as he dragged his feet back to his bedroom. Dave was laying there still snoozing, sprawled out on his stomach with his boxers riding up so far Bro could see the bottom curve of his ass. He chuckled despite the situation, lifting the kid up carefully and putting him on the couch as he changed the now messy sheets. He'd go with the original plan and play dumb, no kid wanted anyone knowing about their wet dreams. When everything was clean he put Dave back in bed, climbed in himself, and pulled the covers over them both. He could pretend that night never happened. He kissed Dave on the forehead.


	3. Chapter 3

To say the very least, Bro was anxious. It was Dave's first day in public middle school, he was entering the sixth grade, and Bro was all by himself in their apartment. He wasn't quite sure what to do with himself. He couldn't remember the last time he was home for so long without Dave there. He kept thinking back to the first time he tried sending Dave to school, how nervous the little man had been, and how rude that women had become. Unlike before, Bro didn't get any snippy phone calls. He didn't get any phone calls at all. After Dave had left the house around eight, all had remained silent and it was somehow putting Bro on edge. Grumbling to himself and wondering aloud how other parents did this, Bro sat on the couch and pushed his laptop open. He'd edit some submissions and fill some orders to keep his mind off of things.

As he tweaked smut stories he found himself continually glancing at the phone. "Boring," He muttered, scrolling through one about some desperate school girl crush gone wrong. He deleted it entirely, feeling particularly harsh. Frowning, he scanned the remaining titles in his inbox until one caught his eye, a submission from an anonymous sender. _Domed By Daddy._Frown dissolved, Bro blinked at his screen, rereading the title again to make sure he had it right. There was no mistake. Feeling mildly guilty for being so interested, Bro hesitated, but then reasoned that he was running a damn porn site. If he was going to feel guilty about something he should have done it ages ago.

Jaw set, he clicked the link and skimmed through the first paragraph. He intended just to scan for typo's and make minor changes, but he found himself slowing down, even going back to the beginning to read it more thoroughly. He was engrossed, his face felt hot, and he found himself continually clenching his fists. The characters involved were so similar to him and Dave it was scary. The sub's cute little attitude was exactly like Dave's, and it was hard not to think about him while he read on. The more he read the warmer it seemed to get, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, he was aching for relief. Shaking his head, he got up and left the room, trying very hard to focus on other things. He showered, he cleaned his room, he even organized the kitchen a bit, but it wasn't too long before he was back in front of his laptop, reading again. He was hard just a few pages in, straining against his tight jeans. Unable to help himself he placed a hand over the bulge in his pants, rubbing slow, hard circles as he read farther into the story. He wanted to groan, it felt so good after so many years of neglect it was like he was feeling pleasure for the first time. Eager to continue he started to undo his belt, but a shrill ringing had him nearly jumping out of his skin, breathing hard as he glanced frantically around the apartment. "Just the phone…" He muttered, rubbing his face as he got up, stretched, and went to retrieve it. "Hello?"

"Bro!"

"Oh, hey Dave," Bro said, clearing his throat. Hearing the kid's voice was making him a little crazy at the moment. He tried to push the thought out of his head. "You alright there, lil man?"

"Yeah, everything's cool," Dave said smoothly, failing to hide, at least from Bro, the excitement in his tone. "I'm on my way home now."

"Bout damn time," Bro grunted. It was finally two o'clock. "Got your key?"

"Yes, Bro," Dave sighed, exasperated. Bro had made _sure_ Dave hadn't forgotten it.

"Good. See you soon, kid."

"I love you!"

Bro smiled. "I love you too."

When Dave hung up, Bro let out a long breath, taking of his hat to run a nervous hand through his hair. Dave was going to be home soon. He didn't want the kid walking in when he had such an unmistakable boner, so he decided that it was about time for another shower. He stripped quickly, stepping into the still damp stall and turning on the water nice and hot. Cold water probably could have gotten rid of his problem faster, but Bro decided against it. It had been too long since his last release and he wanted to handle it the traditional way.

Leaning back against the cool shower tiles, Bro put his hands to work, taking deep breaths as he did, keeping relaxed. He thought about the way that story was written, recalling the vivid mental picture he had painted of a cute little sub in nothing but a red collar enthusiastically sucking his dom's cock. He gave a muffled groan, pumping his own shaft faster, imagining a mouth instead of his hand, and a pair of bright red eyes looking up at him.

Release found him. His come splattered against the opposite wall, and then was rinsed away by the ever falling water. He was breathing heavily, eyes shut. "Fuck," He muttered, feeling both relieved, and sickened by his actions. He had been picturing Dave the whole time. His little man, his biological _son_ for Christ's sake, had him more turned on than he's been in years. "Fucking Christ almighty…"

He frowned as he got out and got dressed, but he didn't have too much time to brood, because just as he was about to button up his shirt, Dave burst excitedly through the door, looking around for him. Bro held up his hand and nodded Dave's way, face void of emotion as usual. "Over here, punk," He said, casually buttoning up his shirt. He may have imagined it, he told himself over and over that he imagined it, but for a second he thought that he saw Dave eyeing his bare chest. _Ridiculous, _he thought. "How was your first day?"

"It was really cool," Dave enthused, face bright with happiness. He chuckled; Dave was awful at keeping neutral around him. "A lot of the kids were pretty stupid, but it was still really fun."

Bro laughed. "What do you mean they were stupid?"

"I dunno," Dave shrugged. "A lot of the stuff they said told me we were gonna learn, I already know."

"That's because I'm the best damn teacher ever."

"Yeah, whatever Bro," Dave said sarcastically.

"Who was your favorite teacher?" Bro asked, making his way to the couch.

Dave followed, dropping his bags and sitting so close that their legs touched. Bro willed his heart not to beat any faster. Dave put his head on his shoulder while he thought. "Probably Mr. Egbert," Dave decided. "That's John's dad."

"I thought John lived in Washington," Bro mused, brow raised. Dave had this look on his face, and Bro just _knew _he was hiding something.

"He did," Dave said. "But his dad got a job here, isn't that cool? He's my creative writing teacher."

Bro looked down at Dave, thoughtful. His mind wandered to the submission he read, and the moment he had in the shower. His eyes landed on Dave's full red lips and he had to look away, suddenly fuming mad at himself. He was being sick, that was his _kid_ there! "Didn't know you took that class," He muttered distantly.

"It's _really_ fun," Dave giggled, hand on Bro's chest. He was definitely up to something; he had that knowing tone in his voice. "Mr. Egbert is a really big help."

The heat of Dave's palm soaked straight through Bro's thin shirt and finally he couldn't take it; he had to jerk away. "Dave, what are you trying to pull?" He demanded, voice coming out harsher than he intended. "What aren't you telling me, huh? Am I supposed to guess?"

Drawing back, Dave bit his lip and looked away, seeming more disappointed than hurt. Still, Bro felt immediately terrible. "It's nothing," Dave mumbled sadly. He got up off of the couch and retreated to his room, but before he did, Bro could have sworn he saw Dave glance at his computer screen, which was still running his porn site.

Soon Dave's first day of public school was in the past, as was his first week, and soon, his first month was coming to a close. Bro knew Dave was up to something. Whatever it was, Dave hadn't given it up. Though Bro tried fruitlessly to convince himself otherwise, Dave's actions were coming across as flirtatious, coy, and sometimes even a little seductive. "It's got to be my imagination," Bro was saying, repeating the words over and over as he got ready for bed. "It's got to be my imagination, it's got to be my imagination…"

In just his boxers and a tight white tee shirt, Bro slipped into bed and tugged the covers up to his neck. Dave was _not_ flirting with him. Dave was _not_ trying to seduce him. The notion was ridiculous, the kid wasn't even twelve, he wasn't about to seduce someone, was he? And definitely not the man who raised him. "It's got to be my imagination," Bro repeated, closing his eyes and setting his shades aside. "My sick, twisted imagination."

Before he could drift of, he heard the tell tale shuffle of feet on the carpet and the creak of his bedroom door being pushed open from the outside. He cracked an eye open, seeing Dave sneak in. The teen clearly was not expecting to be seen. Bro chuckled and Dave turned around, eyes seeming so huge without the shades to veil them. "Bro," He said, voice at a whisper despite how the only two people in the apartment, them, were clearly wide awake. "I thought you were asleep."

"I was," Bro said, lifting the edge of his blanket up, inviting Dave in. "Were you?"

"Not really," Dave admitted as he climbed onto the bed, snuggling into the warm cocoon of blankets. "Couldn't sleep."

"S'not even storming," Bro commented. "What's up?"

Dave's eyes flicked around the room as if by some reflex, and his cheeks flushed a light pink. "Nothing."

Bro shrugged, pulling his kid close. Did he really need an excuse to come into Bro's bed? The man always slept so much better when Dave joined him anyway, but as he started to doze something had him alert, hypersensitive all over.

Careful not to open his eyes, Bro took in a deep breath and tried to evaluate the situation. Dave was cuddled at his side, face buried in his neck, with his hand resting on his stomach. When Dave's hand first slipped under his shirt Bro had written it off as an innocent quest for warmth, but he could feel Dave fingering the contours of his abs, playing with his chest hair, and tracing intricate patterns into his skin. He clenched his jaw, feeling his muscles go taut against his will. The touches made him crazy, but he couldn't react. No matter how it felt to him, he had to tell himself that whatever Dave was up to, it wasn't seduction. Bro knew that if he were ever to convince himself that Dave wanted the same dark, twisted things that he kept dreaming of, he'd be unable to hold himself back. The touches didn't stop, but after a while Bro was able to take them and be calm, feel comfort instead of tension, and eventually fall asleep. When he woke, Dave was snoozing on top of him, breathing slow and deep. The weight of the kid on his chest made him melt into putty, and though he hated to wake him, Bro had to nudge Dave awake so he could get ready for school. "Hey buddy," Bro whispered. "Wake up lil man, it's morning."

Dave mumbled something under his breath and curled up into an even tighter ball, running his fingers through Bro's chest hair. Bro chuckled, feeling his heart rate quicken. "Alright you punk, get off."

When Dave ignored him, he shoved the kid off with a light hearted smile. He tried not to think about what he would give to draw him nearer instead.

"Asshole," Dave yawned, stretching his skinny little arms.

"We haven't been brawling enough lately," Bro noted with light disapproval. "Look at your noodle arms, what do they have you doing in public gym class nowadays?"

"We play weird made up sports and shit," Dave said, shrugging. "Not everyone can have bulging biceps like you, Bro."

Grinning, he flexed a bit and Dave rolled his eyes. "Oh get over yourself," Dave laughed, rolling out of bed. "I'm going to get in the shower."

When Dave was out of sight, Bro flopped onto his back, looking up at the ceiling. Without his shades, everything was so much brighter. He glanced at the door, still ajar from Dave's departure, and shook his head. He quickly shoved his shades over his eyes and hauled himself out of bed.

Not bothering to put on any pants, Bro headed for the living room and went to his computer. He needed a distraction from Dave, something to keep him from reliving how Dave had toyed with his chest hair. _At least work will be a distraction,_ He thought, logging onto his email. He had been picking up a few extra shifts at the club. With Dave in public school, Bro had a little too much time on his hands. Still, the club was all but dead during the day, so he still had nothing to work on but his website, and _that_ wasn't exactly good for distracting him from his overactive imagination. Every time he went to manage his site or even fill a smuppet order, there was a new story waiting for him with the same two characters that had him all wound up in the first place. He couldn't just ignore them, they were too good not to edit and post, but every time he read one he just ended up in the shower or in his room, relieving the tension with Dave's name on his breath. "This has to stop," He was muttering to himself as he rinsed away the most recent evidence. He knew the way he was thinking was wrong, very wrong, the kid slept in his _bed_ for crying out loud, he couldn't keep feeling that way.

There was a knock on the bathroom door, making him freeze. "Dave?"

"I'm home," Dave called. "What's for dinner? I'm hungry."

"Order whatever you want," Bro said, toweling himself dry and opening the door. "I've got to work early tonight."

Dave's eyes flicked from where Bro's towel was wrapped around his waist and back up again. "You're leaving?"

"Gotta bring home the bacon, kid," He said, casually mussing up Dave's hair. "You'll see me in the morning, okay?"

"Yeah yeah," Dave said, dragging his backpack to the living room.

After a brief goodbye, Bro went into his room to get dressed. He blow dried his hair and slapped on his hat, then grabbed his bag, his keys, and jogged out the door.

At the club things were pretty dead. Bro's coworker Drake was working the Dj booth, but hardly. Drake was practically asleep, the music playing lamely on its own, and the only one on the dance floor was the janitor. The club always looked that way while the sun was up. All the action at that time was around the bar, where a few regular's buzzed about every now and again. He punched in and dropped his bag off in back. Since there was no one there, Bro took his spot behind the bar and started wiping down the counter, prepping his station for when the night rush_ did_ come. It was Friday after all, and Fridays were one of their best nights. "Oi, boss," Bro called when he saw the manager of the place, a sweaty guy with shoulder length black hair and cracked glasses, walked passed with a box of metal scraps.

"Yes?" The man rattled.

"How's the schedule looking tonight?"

"You are bartending from eight to midnight."

"Aw, boss, but all the fun people come in after midnight."

Equius lifted a few sheets of paper from his clip board, reading thoughtfully. "You have a son to return home to, do you not, Strider?"

"Brother," Bro said smoothly, insides twisting a bit.

"And he is not in need of attending to?"

"I was hoping to pick up a few extra shifts. We need the extra cash." The last part was a fib. The brothers were fine on money, really, the site was booming, but Bro needed a distraction.

"Very well," Equius said, scribbling something down.

Just as the man was about to leave, Bro looked up from the glass he was cleaning and tipped his hat. "Your lady coming in tonight?"

"I know not of what you speak."

"Ah, come on," Bro teased. Equius always had this tiny little women following him around.

Equius opened his mouth to speak, but before he could the doors of the club opened up wide, a short woman with huge green eyes and a plush tail attached to her pants came bounding in. Equius mumbled something about not having been expecting her, the left, flustered as he went to go great her. Bro chuckled and got back to work cleaning up the bar area.

After another twenty minutes or so of watching the woman, Equius called her Nepeta, frolic alone on the dance floor, the sky finally began to darken, and people finally started coming in. Bro pushed up his shades, repositioned his hat and turned on the charm, leaning on the bar to talk to customers in between bursts of stunt filled drink mixing. People oo'ed and ahh'ed at him as he shook up specialty alcohols, plenty of the mixtures of his own invention. Bar tending was far from a bad gig, the people were great, especially once they had a little juice in them. It wasn't long, however, until his mind started to wonder back home to Dave. He thought about how Dave had looked sprawled out on his bed, his cute little ass playing peek-a-boo from under his boxer shorts. Shaking his head, Bro turned his back to the bar and took a deep breath. Was there no distraction?

Usually, he didn't break the rules at work, he rather liked his job, but he found himself sneaking a drink here and there as the night progressed. The buzz helped him avoid thinking about his brother and focus more on his job. He went back to flashing charismatic smiles at the ladies who perched on the bar stools, and throwing vulgar jokes at the drunk men trying to court them. He was very well liked and knew a lot of the customers by name. Most who knew him, though enjoyed his bar tending, preferred him at another station. "Are you working the booth tonight, Bro?" One of the guys asked.

Bro glanced at the dance floor. Drake was still working the DJ booth, but there were only half the people dancing that should have been. "I think I will."

Buzzing with excitement, and a bit of alcohol, Bro called Drake over and persuaded him to switch spots. Drake agreed no problem, he liked bartending better anyway, and Bro hopped over the counter and back behind the turn tables. Grinning, Bro pulled the mic up to his level. "Alright, alright, alright, time to kick it up a notch!"

He had no trouble at all getting the crowd's attention, and soon the energy level was through the roof as only he could get it. The night went on at a constant high, and by the end of it, he was more than a little bit buzzed. It was around two fifteen in the morning when they had finally urged the last stragglers out of the club. "Dude, I don't think I can drive," Bro was chuckling as he and Drake started cleaning up.

"Drinking on the job, Strider?"

"Just this once," Bro said with a wink. "Don't you snitch on me, either."

"I won't, I won't," Drake laughed. "Just as long as you promise me one thing, okay?"

"Sure, what?"

"Get a fucking cab."

Bro promised, and they laughed through the rest of their cleaning. Bro didn't have to be told twice. Anything past one drink, he had exactly zero trust in himself behind the wheel, so after they had finished their work, Bro quickly called a cab and was on his way home. When he got there, it was dark save from one light glowing in the living room. The yawning and tipsy, Bro curiously wandered over to find Dave curled up, out cold, in a pile of creative writing homework. Chuckling, Bro knelt down for a closer look. He smiled. Dave was so precious to him. He reached out to gently stroke Dave's cheek, feeling the kid's soft skin before leaning down to press a kiss to his nose. Bro lingered a bit, and before he pulled back, Dave murmured something in his sleep and shifted slightly, just enough to cause their lips to brush past each other's. Sparks flew and Bro's heart spasmed. He longed to drag Dave closer, crush him in a kiss, but he just couldn't. He forced himself back; cheeks flushed red, and shuffled into the kitchen for a beer.

He pulled a cold bottle from the fridge, after shoving some swords aside, popped the cap off with his teeth, and drank it down quickly. The cool liquid felt wonderful in his parched mouth and the alcohol added pleasantly to the buzz he already felt. He squeezed his eyes shut as he gulped, but then he felt a touch, the lightest of touches, really, on his bicep and he choked mid swallow, coughing and spitting beer everywhere trying to catch a breath.

He turned, hearing a familiar laugh behind him. "Light weight," Dave sniggered, withdrawing his hand. Without his shades on, Dave's eyes were bright red, mesmerizing in the dim light.

"What could you possibly know about alcohol?" Bro muttered, wiping his mouth. "You're eleven."

Smirking, Bro snatched the beer bottle from Bro's hand, polished it off, and turned casually on his heel, heading towards his bedroom.

"You had better not take one _sniff _of booze without me there, Dave!" Bro shouted after him, shaking his head. "I mean it!"

He didn't mind if Dave fancied a drink every now and again, but never away from home, and never without Bro there. Eyes rolling a bit, Bro watched Dave open his bedroom door. "Night, punk," Bro called.

Dave turned around, smiling. "I love you."


End file.
